


The Compliment

by Clueingforlooks221B



Category: Wander Over Yonder
Genre: Crying Peepers, Don't worry it's out of joy, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-29
Updated: 2016-09-29
Packaged: 2018-08-18 14:41:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8165506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clueingforlooks221B/pseuds/Clueingforlooks221B
Summary: Based on @thewoychallenge’s tumblr challenge #2: In a thoughtless moment, Lord Hater accidentally lets a compliment slip to another character nearby.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is probably the fastest work I've written and am posting, all in the span of an hour I think. So I'm hoping it's okay, but feel pretty good about it. 
> 
> Everyone should go check @thewoychallenge out on tumblr it’s awesome and a great attribute towards #savewoy! :)

A nasty voice careens through the crowd, wearing heavily on the lids of his soldiers. Their necks hang, inclining further and further as the tone carries on. The brave ones have surrendered, falling asleep, while others continue to blink harshly as their elbows support all their weight. Occasionally one of their elbows will give out when they summon to slumber, their head smacking into the table being a rough wake up call. 

Meanwhile, Lord Hater is in colorful deep daydreams spiraling thick webs across his awareness. His eyes are open, but his conscience isn't comprehending his commander. 

Peepers legs bounce as he extends on, hands dancing across the lines of his ample intense plan. It’s boundless, and to the watchdogs it seems he’s been droning on for hours. 

The commander feels the atmosphere shift. It’s stuffier, and seething in heat. Leisurely his hands crawl to his sides, and his thoughts of the direction for his words to go cease. He is silent, giddiness fading from his wilting form as he turns. 

Air skips into him, squeezing through his barricading throat. He forces himself to breath once, squaring his rising tense shoulders and bracing himself. Looking up around him, he sees exactly what he has suspected to. A room full of blank looks.

The majority of the watchdogs lids are shut, but not all are asleep. Others stare at him through wax paper pupils, disinterest consuming their bones.   
 He looks directly at Hater. Empty chartreuse eyes stare back.

Indignation skeins around his spine. Burnt blood makes him stand stiff, and sets fire to his pupils and fists. His chest hurts from the steam rolling off him, and he momentums the boiling air into his enflamed lungs. 

“Is anyone even listeni- why am I even bothering to ask of course no one is! Does anyone even care?!” Peepers throws the blueprints he was clutching tight down onto the marble table in front of him. Through the black reflection he can see the veins in his eyes starting to crawl out of his lids, pulsing. 

Watchdogs who were snoozing shoot up at his shriek. Lord Hater, just now tuning in, blinks calmly. 

Peepers challenges him, holding his gaze firmly with him. His pupil skates over Hater’s collective expression, and all the fury sweeps out of him. Defeat sits in his chest, sinking to his stomach as he exhales the last of his pent up emotions. 

What’s the point? 

“Why do I even bother?” Dropping down into his chair, the back of it drenches him in shadows as the weight of him collapsing causes the chair to swivel. Peepers scoots to the edge of his seat so he can stretch his legs to the floor. He plants his feet firmly on the hard floor, the chair coming to a harsh stop. The chairs arms knock into his side, causing him to let out a small oof. His torso is fully stretched out so his feet reach the floor completely. Slowly he scoots onto the chair, relaxing his weight so the large wheeled chair won’t move again.

Hater’s jaw stretches into a smirk, and some of the watchdogs who aren't too exhausted eyes dance in amusement. 

Peepers is hot again, this time mar and abash. 

“Meeting adjourned since clearly no one cares about this,” Salt seasons his words as he draws his elbows down to lie his head against the cool marble. “and obviously no one cares about me or what I have to say.” He mumbles the last part, resting his top lid against the table. He waves his hand tiredly, dismissing them, and the watchdogs start to get up to trickle out. 

A nasally rasp blows his blueprints several inches across the table. One of them flutters off the table, but it’s pointless to him now. Who cares if it gets dirty? It is a trashy idea anyways. 

“What?!” Hater slams his hands down on the table, making the blueprints and some of the watchdogs remaining in the room jump. The ones by the door rush out, while others pupils shrink. 

How dare Peepers say that? Moping around like a looser! “I care about you!” Lord Hater blurts out, a hint of a whine in his tone. 

Stunned silence ensues. Peepers inches his eye up, puzzlement morphing his features. What? There’s no way he heard that right.   
 The watchdogs near the door who didn't rush out are thankful, slinking back into the room to watch the scene unfold. 

“What?” Peepers finally manages to voice, throat tight. 

Hater stares at him, eyes squinting in bewilderment as he wonders why everyone is staring at him in shock. His tongue moves as he ponders his last words, his tongue tracing the vowels. 

Oh. 

His jaw drops, and green bursts across his sharp cheek bones. “NO! THAT’S NOT WHAT I MEANT EWW GROSS!” He jolts up, arms waving as some of the watchdogs in the room snicker. 

“OBVIOUSLY I meant that I care about the things that you do for me, like making me food and waking me up and, NO THAT’S NOT RIGHT EITHER!” Hater racks his brain for something that doesn't sound sickly sentimental. 

Peepers vision blurs, and his bottom lid rises with the tangy moisture. It gathers in the corners of his eye. 

“I DON’T CARE ABOUT YOU! I DON’T CARE ABOUT ANYONE!” Hater screeches, and Peepers sniffles as tears flood in the naval of his neck. They’re hot and sticky, but it beats the earlier heat. 

“Thank you sir!” Peepers cries out. 

“NO!” Hater screeches, and Peepers desperately tries to control himself, wiping his tears away. But they keep coming, endlessly flowing. 

Lord Hater complemented him. Lord Hater actually cares about him. 

“I don’t care about you! I forgot to say don’t!!” Hater growls, throwing his head back, “Whatever Hater out!” He storms out past the still snickering watchdogs, leaving a happily tearful Peepers behind.

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback fuels me. :) As always please don't hesitate to let me know if there are any errors so I can fix them, thanks! 
> 
> Tumblr: hatesgreat-bestvillian


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